My Friends
by Theburningyoung
Summary: Naomi comes back to her house to find it empty. She reflects upon where she went wrong and if she can fix it but she might have to give up some friends along the way. A one shot- Naomily.


_Hey guys,_

_Just another one shot for you. This I'll admit is very different to the last two but it just wrote so naturally that I really couldn't stop myself. _

_Anyway I'll finish there in fear I might give something away and I'll leave it up to you to read._

_Thanks again for all your support it's amazing._

_Thanks Guys!_

_Over and out. _

* * *

Naomi sat and stared, not at anything particular. She imagined this is what an out of body experience was like. Her head felt completely disconnected from the rest of her; her heart and lungs on autopilot, doing just enough graft to keep her breathing. She had to spend at least a good half an hour debating whether all of this was true, if it was really happening- she eventually concluded that it was.

When the annoyance of sitting finally reached her closed off brain she decided to shuffle from the spot she had been sat in, she hadn't moved a muscle since she'd seen that letter.

The groaning of the rickety kitchen chair echoed around the empty house. The bare walls that once held pictures, photos and life mementos caused the sound to ricochet before attacking Naomi's ear drums with a stinging slap.

She picked up the crumpled paper in front of her, wincing slightly at the harsh scrape it left against her fingers tips. She looked at it, not reading it, just watching just in case the words and letters decided to change, transform into something more palatable for Naomi's conflicted thoughts.

It was mess and Naomi didn't need a letter to tell her that. It was just common knowledge but never did she think that it would end up like this. Looking back she realised what a fucking idiot she had been, naively thinking that things would just fix themselves- have you ever seen a hammer and nail work together?

It wasn't as if she could wonder to herself if she'd missed the signs, because she saw the signs- pretty fucking obvious really. But she was Naomi; cowardly, uncommitted, and detached; and it didn't matter if the signs punched her square in the face- they were never her problem. There was always some work that needed to be done, a meeting she had to stay behind for, or a pub she had to be at. Never any time, not for her anyway.

Naomi tried to get into her frame of mind, tried to see the picture she must have seen in the months leading up to today. If what she saw was even just an eighth of the actual scene then Naomi didn't blame her for emptying the house and leaving nothing but a shell for her sorry arse to sit in.

What a pathetic excuse for a human being she'd been. Why couldn't she just step up to the plate, kick her petty insecurities into touch and just done something about it? Was it really that hard to stop being this much of a prick, or was it just something unique to her?

What did it matter? What's done is done and here she is- alone, cold and utterly miserable. **_Good riddance, I deserve it_**! It wasn't even as if she had been left with anything to ease the process, **_not even one fucking beer_**. Maybe she had done that intentionally, feel the full brunt of everything- feel what she must have felt when Naomi stumbled in at four in the morning.

Naomi tried to remember a time when she'd seen her get angry but none came to mind. She came to the conclusion that she had been too blind drunk to remember never mind notice. The only thing she could think of was _that_ night, a frosty December night, Boxing Day to be exact.

_Naomi fell against the drain pipe, her breathing hard and erratic, steam pooling out of her mouth before disappearing into the freezing night air. She fumbled in her coat pocket; it stunk of fags, larger and multiple shots of festive tequila. Eventually she managed to get her numb fingers to extract the keys that jingled and jangled, echoing down the desolate, inner city street. She realised that she hadn't been here since early Christmas Eve. She remembered almost sprinting down the street when she got the call from Cook, asking her if she'd like a Christmas tipple at Keith's- now Cook's after an unexpected heart attack last June. Naomi was ecstatic with the call, Emily had been pestering her the past two weeks to do this and get that- trying to make the house all Christmas-ey like she did. She didn't even celebrate the fucking holiday, not since her turd of a Dad decided to walk out on her and her mother a week before the big day- only five years old if she remembered rightly. _

_"Merry fucking Christmas you bastard." Naomi slurred as she slumped against the PVC door, the key scratching the hole as her drunken hands tried, ultimately failing, to unlock the door to her good sized three bedroom terrace house. She swore a couple more times as she tried to open the door, doing everything she could so she wouldn't wake Emily up. She'd be pissed and Naomi couldn't be arsed being on the receiving end of it. She briefly remembered Emily telling her to be back by five as James, Katie and 'what's his name'- Katie's flavour of the month- were coming around for Christmas Eve supper before going to the Fitch residents to see in the holiday with Medusa and her Aqua Fresh lap dog. That was two days ago and Naomi had failed to turn up for both so she figured she wouldn't be missed much on Christmas day itself. She remembered briefly, at some point on Christmas Eve through the many pints and shots, her phone kept going off with Emily's pixie smile flashing on her mobile screen- that was until Naomi switched the damn thing off. She was just glad that Cook just kept giving her drinks with no questions and at some point offered a sofa for the night, other wise who the hell knew where she'd end up. Christmas day itself was pretty much a mirror of the day previous, talking shit, watching crap telly- she vaguely recalls her Christmas lunch being a packet of salt and vinegar crisps washed down with a uncountable number of pints and a bottle of whiskey. She was relived that Cook never asked her why she was there and not with Emily, the woman she apparently loved. She realised now that Cook probably knew anyway, more than Naomi did at the time and she was one half of the fucking relationship. _

_Naomi eventually managed to open the door, throwing herself on it to close once she was inside. She made her way down the hallway toward the kitchen, bangng from on side to the other as she tried to keep her balance. Another drink before bed wouldn't do her any harm. _

_When she turned the kitchen light on the oak table was illuminated, as was the red headed figure who was sitting at it. Her eyes dark and lifeless, almost as much as the bags that hung heavily underneath. _

_"Evening." Naomi mumbled, swaying slightly as she managed to say up right. _

_"Where have you been?" She asked, so monotone that if Naomi was sober she'd have instantly known that some was most definitely up. However, for drunken Naomi everything was a bit shady. _

_"Just at Cook's" She shrugged casually before making her way to fridge, holding on the door so hard that her knuckles went white as she grabbed a Budweiser from the top shelf- expertly popping off the cap. _

_"Don't you think you've had enough?" Emily enquired, crossing her arms as she watching Naomi's shaky demeanour. _

_"Just celebrateing at this festive time." She said before taking another gulp then set it down on the table and removed her jacket then hung it on the back of one of the chairs set around the circular table. _

_"Well, I'm glad one of us was fucking celebrateing." She spat. _

_"What you talking about? You were at your parents." Naomi answered picking up her beer. _

_"Where you were suppose to be!" _

_"They didn't fucking want me there, you probably had a ball." Naomi scoffed, finishing the last of the bottle before going back for another. However, Emily beat her to it and slammed the fridge door before Naomi could grab a second bottle. _

_"What do you thinking you're doing?!" Naomi yelled, not caring if the neighbours heard because they always complained either way. _

_"Trying to fucking help you- that's what." _

_"I don't need any help, now let me passed." Naomi huffed. Emily violently shook her head. _

_"You don't need help? Don't make me laugh- you're a drunk!" Naomi looked away from her accusing glare, counted to ten before letting out a long breath- calm that was the key. _

_"No, don't say that. I'm fine." Naomi replied, biting her tongue so that she didn't explode- say something she didn't mean. _

_"You're fine? How can you be fine Naomi, I haven't seen you sober for five months? You spend all your time either at work or at the pub, you're wasting our money on dri-"_

_"What do you mean **our **money? I'll think you'll find it's my money and it's perfectly fine, the bills get paid, there's food in the fridge- am I right?!" She bellowed. What right did Emily have to question her? Her house, bought with her own money, from her high paid job with the Ministry of Defence. So, what she liked a drink once in a while, she needed something to help her wind down from all the shit she has to do in her working life. Plus, Naomi highly doubted that Emily could afford anything anywhere near as good as this on her teacher's salary- so why the hell was she questioning her when she had no right? _

_Emily took a step back, pinched the bridge of her nose and let out a long, weary sigh. _

_"Naomi I-"_

_"No, answer me! Am I right, the bills get paid, there's food on our table, you live in a nice house, your stupid fucking shopping trips with your tangoed sisters get paid with my money- Me. All me!" Naomi screamed her throat rugged and swore but she didn't care. Emily would know what the price was for questioning something which wasn't hers to question- just wanting to get her little nose in every aspect of Naomi's life when all she wanted was some room to fucking breath. Sometimes it felt like she couldn't even go to the god damn toilet without Emily checking up on her. _

_"You don't have to raise your voice at me. I thought we were fucking adults Naomi." Emily retaliated, her hands waving erratically. _

_"We are adults, well I thought we were. But last time I checked adults don't follow each other like fucking children!" Naomi yelled, not even taking notice of the banging that was coming from the neighbours on both sides. _

_"Oh that's real mature Naomi. If anyone here is a child it's you- y'know sometimes I think I have more intellectual conversations with my students and they're horney teenagers." _

_"Oh well you'll get on like a fucking house on fire won't you!" Naomi shouted before swinging around and grabbing her coat. _

_"Where the hell do you think you're going?" Emily called as Naomi stormed down the hallway toward the front door. _

_"Out, away from you and this fucking house." She fired over her shoulder as she turned the brass handle. _

_"Oh yeah that's it, run away like you always do- just like your fucking Dad." Naomi froze in the door way, the only movement the tiny flutters of snowflakes that wafted into the house, dissolving in the interior heat. Emily immediately regretted the words when they left her mouth. Feeling the anger haze in her head suddenly lift and all that was left was stabbing soberness. _

_Naomi turned, her eyes almost black with rage before she moved up the hallway like a bull seeing red, charging at its red headed victim. _

_"Naomi, I'm sorry I didn't me-"***SMACK*. **The slapping off flesh against flesh echoed through the house and the air was hauntingly still. The pain that erupted through Naomi's hand and radiated through her arm to the rest of her body, hitting her head last and even then her expression didn't let on the seriousness of it all. Her face set in stone, her eyes wild with fire- the beast had awoken. _

_Emily remained like that for a further few minutes, her face arced away where the force of Naomi's hand had placed her. When she finally turned to face her- this monster- her eyes we're brimming over, wide like a puppy dog, glistening with the tears of crushed hope. _

_As soon as Naomi saw that- the hurt and betrayal- something suddenly clicked in her head just like the turning on of a light switch. In that moment Naomi wanted nothing more than to buddle up the woman in front her and hold her, tell her she meant nothing she said and was sorry for eternity for hurting her. However there was something else that told her this was right, Emily needed to know where her place was, needed to learn not to go treading in things where her footsteps didn't belong. It was probably the alcohol that was whizzing around her system, giving her this adrenalin buzz. But what did it matter if it was the booze, they had been more of a partner to her than the girl in front her. They always wanted to please and never asked for anything in return, they didn't ask for Naomi's thoughts on a plate they just excepted that was an issue that would never be brought to the light of day. They did everything that Emily didn't and that's what made Naomi happy. This was right, this was supposed to happen, Naomi thought before she began talking. _

_"Don't you dare compare me to him, you understand?" Naomi hissed her finger right in Emily's tear stricken face. Her topaz eye's sharp and intimidating- something that Emily had never seen before, something that made her question how in the world was the thing in front of her the person she'd fallen hopelessly in love with all those years ago. _

_When Emily didn't acknowledge her, Naomi got angry again- she was bringing it upon herself Naomi kept telling herself. _

_"I said do you understand me?!" Still nothing. _

_"ANSWER ME!" Naomi roared make Emily's ear drums rattle so much she feared they might explode. Emily nodded this time but didn't dare looked up as she was terrified to look upon the villain she was starting to believe she had created. Once Emily understood Naomi took a step back and moved aside her face still a gargoyle of stone. _

_When Naomi moved aside Emily darted past her and sprinted up the stairs into their- the bedroom. Slamming the door shut just before her legs gave way and the sobs started to rack her body as she curled herself in the foetal position, on the rough navy floor. Relishing the feel of the carpet as it burned itself in her skin- anything to make her wake up from this nightmare. She'd never sleep after it. _

_Downstairs Naomi was still rooted to the same spot, her eyes fixated onto the same place Emily had once been, it hadn't quite registered that she had left. It wasn't until Naomi could hear her whimpering above that everything suddenly became real, smacking her so hard that her feet almost gave way. There was only one thing that could pull her through this, grab her arm and yank her free of the quick sand that was sucking her up so fast that she was sure she'd be dead within seconds. _

_She grabbed her coat with shaky hands, a mixture of alcohol, adrenalin and fear that was so full on it was suffocating her. She pulled out her phone and text Cook, told him she left something at the pub and was coming to get it- yeah that bottle of whiskey. _

_She slammed the door to **her **home and marched off, leaving in her wake footprints in the snow and two broken hearts. She'd spent that night on Cook's sofa with an empty bottle of Jack in her arms- just like the months to come. _

Naomi stroked the floaty handwriting that was occasionally separated with drying tear drops- Emily's. She was worthless Naomi was well aware of that- she didn't need Emily leaving her to know that. The fact that she let the best thing to ever happen to her simply walk out of her life because she was having a toxic affair with numerous long necked, and malty lovers, was just yet another drop of evidence within the sea.

Two months after that night Naomi found herself at this table, reading this letter. Naomi was surprised that Emily stuck around that long.

On Monday when Emily wasn't there when Naomi returned from the office- drunk and late as usual- it didn't really shock her that Emily wasn't there. These past few months Emily had been spending quite a few nights at Katie's and she figured this was just another one of these. Then Thursday came round and she hadn't heard let alone seen anything from the redhead Naomi just accepted that this was it. So instead of coming home drunk she'd buy a bottle of whiskey, or vodka, or whatever it was that was offer and would sit in front of the TV and watch shit, something meaningless she could just pass out in peace to. She'd wake up each morning alone, not even a few droplets of liqueur to greet her, maybe an extinguished fag in her fingers, the sofa now with its fair share of burnt marks. It didn't really mean anything to her that her house stunk of stale smoke, it only bothered Emily, and now that she wasn't here none of it mattered anymore.

It wasn't until the week after Emily had disappeared that Naomi had arrived home- this time with no bottle as she'd stupidly left her purse at home that morning as she over slept because not even her alarm clock could penetrate her drunken sleep- and found her house even more lonely than when she had left it, something which she thought impossible. It was here she found an envelope on the kitchen counter top, her name in elegant purple pen. Inside a tortured passage of gut wrenching pain and emotion, something that was so full on that Naomi subconsciously reached for a friend- cursing herself when she realized she'd forgotten to buy one on her journey home. And because of that she had nothing to do but read, feeling the affects of reality as a sober person- a real person.

She read how Emily described the hell that Naomi had single handedly created for her- even though she heroically takes some of the blame-, how she lived in fear for the phone to ring to be told that the only person she could ever love had died. And finally she said that for the safety of her own heart she had to leave, but –and Naomi couldn't understand why after the previous words of anguish- if Naomi ever saw a light and needed an olive branch then- and only then- Emily would catch her and they'd fight the war, together.

There was no end to this, Naomi new she'd live with this for the rest of her life, but that wasn't necessarily the end of her. If Emily wanted this to work and was giving her this opportunity- and God only knows why- then the least Naomi was going to was to grab it and hold it so close this it would become one with her.

That's what she was going to do; she was going to be the one Emily needed to be- strong, fearless and most importantly stable. Emily needed that from her, needed that to make her happy and Naomi wanted nothing more than for her to be happy. Naomi jumped up grabbed her coat and ran, ran like she'd never ran before- so fast that the February cold was making her lungs sting but she didn't care as there was a chance that Emily would be at the other end, and that glimpse was enough- it would always be enough.

Eventually Naomi's body gave in and she had to stop, bent over next to a brick wall and breathed in deep even though it was almost impossible to get the required air into her raw chest. After a few minutes her breathing started to become consistent and the airways opened and closed in harmony with each other.

It was at this point it time she saw it, the corner shop across the street. The same corner shop that had the weekly deals on instant friendship- isles and isles of so many varieties, all wanting to be with you and only you.

Naomi shook her head; she needed to see Emily that's why she almost gave herself a heart attack in the first place. But even as she thought about the redhead, her hands naturally slipped into her pockets, the rugged feel of her purse against her aching finger tips- she must have put it in her pocket when she first got in- three guesses what was on your mind she thought.

One drink would hurt would it, and it would only be one. A bit of Dutch courage to accompany her to Emily's, and who knows with that maybe everything would be easier to let spill. She'd be able to get everything off her chest and then they'd kiss and make up and celebrate with a bottle of champagne, a really fancy one! Yes, that's what she'd do; she'd buy the champagne- just the champagne. Naomi giggled like the little child as she made her way into the store.

Naomi walked out with the champagne and bottle of Smirnoff that was on offer- after all the champagne would get lonely without a friend and Naomi didn't want her friends getting lonely.


End file.
